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by feathers_and_cigarettes



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel 616, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clint and Kate friendship, F/F, Fluff, Fraction's Hawkeye, Friendship, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Human Disaster Kate Bishop, M/M, Timeline What Timeline, amerikate - Freeform, hawkeye squared, paint fight, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathers_and_cigarettes/pseuds/feathers_and_cigarettes
Summary: Clint and Kate can't be unsupervised for more than an hour, especially when there's paint involved.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Kate Bishop/America Chavez
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anabeauce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anabeauce/gifts).



> Another commission for Anabeauce! Prompt was Kate, Clint, and something domestic with background Winterhawk and Amerikate. I hope this delivers!

“So, uh. This place is fancy.”

Kate raised an eyebrow and tossed him a paint roller. “Compared to the shithole you live in? Clint, the pay-by-the-hour motel off Bushwick and Broadway is fancier than your place.”

Which _wasn’t_ true, thanks. Clint’s apartment may have had more arrow holes in the walls but that place definitely had more DNA soaked into the floors. He caught the roller and unclipped Lucky’s leash, letting the golden bounce excitedly toward Kate.

“Nah, seriously. I didn’t realize how nice these apartments were,” he said, looking around appreciatively. The hardwood floors seemed new-ish, and the windows let in a lot of natural light. The furniture was covered in sheets to protect them from paint splatters, but the place had a homey feel despite the girls not being fully moved in yet.

Kate pulled the hair tie out of her mouth and deftly twisted her hair into a messy ponytail. “Yeah, well, the neighbourhood’s not so great, so we got a pretty good deal,” she replied, kneeling to hug Lucky and squish his face for a quick selfie. “America got to punch a guy yesterday, so I think the place is a keeper.”

“Bless your landlord for underestimating you two, I guess,” Clint said, kicking off his sneakers. “You think he’ll give you a monthly bonus if you stop a few crimes?”

“Yeah, right. He recognized America right off the bat as an Avenger and wanted to raise the rent. Said ‘people like her’ always brought in more trouble. We weren’t sure if he was being racist, homophobic, or just hates superheroes, but I’m dealing with him from now on.”

“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be the least offensive option, Katie-Kate.” A roll of painter’s tape hit him squarely between the eyes. “I am kind of afraid of your girlfriend though.”

Kate grinned. “Probably the smartest thing you’ve said in weeks.”

“I told Bucky I’d clean the bathroom this morning, so that ranks up there. Or he said I did, anyway, it was early,” Clint replied. He threw an arm over Kate’s shoulders and gave her a hug, kissing the top of her head. “We’re gonna miss havin’ you two in Brooklyn. Don’t get me wrong, Queens is nice, but there’s no place like our trash heap.”

Kate allowed the hug for a minute, headbutting Clint’s shoulder before pulling away. “We could have gone back to LA; just think of it that way,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Lucky would have never forgiven you, ‘cause you sure as shit ain’t taking him again.”

Shoving him, Kate snorted and turned her attention back to the paint cans. “You’re just mad he liked LA better than you did. If you wanna finish with the tape, we can get this wall done pretty fast.”

Clint shrugged and set to work, stretching up on his toes to line the edges of the walls with the blue tape. “We just gonna do this one wall?”

“It’s an accent wall,” Kate explained, pouring the deep purple paint into two trays. “The rest are going to be that blue over there.”

Whatever the fuck an accent wall was. Clint’s version of interior design consisted of throwing boxes into corners and grabbing whatever he needed out of them when the time came. He knelt down, smoothing the tape along the edge of the baseboard, and laughed as Lucky came over to bathe his face in dog slobber.

“The trim’s going to still be white, but I figured I’d touch it up anyway,” Kate continued, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind her ear and smearing a bit of paint along her temple.

Clint straightened with a groan, rolling his shoulders and stepping back to check for any missed edges or outlets. “I like it, kid. Very, uh, modern, I guess. Chic.” Fuck if he knew. It _was_ pretty on-brand for both of them though, and it was easy to see the two of them living there. “No stars or arrows or anything like that on the walls?”

The look Kate shot him was only mildly exasperated. “We’re not twelve, Clint.”

She wasn’t, and even Clint couldn’t deny that she’d grown up, no matter how much he still saw her as the kid Jones had taken in. She’d more than earned the name Hawkeye and Clint was having a hard time letting her go.

He sighed, dipped his finger into the pan, and painted a stripe across her forehead.

Kate gaped at him and wiped at the paint, smearing it more across her skin. “You are so fucking dead,” she said calmly and reached for her paint roller.

Clint dived for one of the paintbrushes on the table and managed to sweep it through the pan before Kate rolled a stripe of purple up the back of his t-shirt. He scrambled for purchase on the plastic sheeting covering the floor, his socks slipping on the smooth surface before he found his balance. Grinning maniacally, he thrust the paintbrush out in front of him like a rapier, taking up a guard position.

“Okay, Ronin,” Kate deadpanned, lunging forward with her roller and putting Clint on the defensive.

Nearly tripping backwards over a barking Lucky, Clint scrambled to keep his balance. He pulled some expert ninja shit and managed to vault over the back of the couch, the purple paint dripping onto the sheet covering it. Peering around the corner, he grinned and flicked the brush, dotting Kate’s oversized t-shirt with paint.

“First rule of paint wars, kid: range always wins,” Clint crowed, dodging Kate’s attack and retreating around the couch, making sure to not get boxed in. “I’d hate to sound like Cap, but I could do this all fuckin’ day.”

Kate ducked Clint’s next spray of paint and her eyes darted to the trays. “You’re gonna need to reload, genius.”

Well, _obviously_ , but the question was how to get Kate away from the trays? He made a quick dash for them and got a stripe through his mohawk for his efforts, but he did manage to turn the tip of Kate’s nose purple in return. He parried Kate’s thrust, turning the roller aside and retreating back to the relative safety of the couch.

Lucky wagged his tail at him and Clint grinned. Perfect. “Here, boy, take this,” he said, offering the paint brush handle to Lucky who took it happily. “Go get Katie-Kate, Luck! Go get her!”

“Oh, no. _No_ , Lucky,” Kate yelped, trying unsuccessfully to dodge the happy retriever as he bounded into her, painting her arms and shirt as he tried to shove the paintbrush into her. “Lucky, _off!_ ”

Clint took advantage of the distraction to dash forward and grab the second paint roller. He slid it through the tray and took up a guard stance, grinning wildly. They were both covered in paint, the dog was speckled with purple, and more of the sheet-covered furniture and floors were painted than the walls.

Kate snorted and rolled her eyes. “You really think I’d have left you with the longer one?” She pressed the button on the roller’s handle and extended the pole, making Clint scramble backward as she caught him in the chest.

Laughing and swearing, Clint ducked her second swing and painted a stripe up her leg. She didn’t have great technique in close quarters, but her range was definitely an advantage. He swung the paint roller like a sword, parrying and thrusting in for quick jabs. They were both more covered in paint than not and Lucky’d be more accurately called a plum retriever than a golden one.

With a deft twist, Clint disarmed Kate, sending the paint roller skittering across the floor and Lucky barking after it. Grinning, Clint flicked the roller to Kate’s purple-speckled throat in victory.

“Give in?” he asked, tipping Kate’s chin up with the roller.

“Are you really that stupid?” Kate said, raising her eyebrows. She twisted out of his reach and swung her leg out, catching him behind the knees and pulling him off balance.

Clint crashed to the floor and Kate was on him in a second, pinning him to the floor and trying to wrench the roller out of his hand. They grappled for a moment, Clint struggling to use his strength to his advantage and Kate always one step ahead of him.

“For fuck’s sake.”

They both paused, Kate’s palm pressing Clint’s cheek into the floor and Clint’s knee up and poised to shove her off. Clint craned his neck around, watching a paint-covered Lucky dance happily around two sets of legs by the front door.

“Told you they couldn’t be trusted alone for an hour,” America Chavez’s amused voice drifted in. “You owe me, Barnes.”

Heavy boots picked their way over to where Clint and Kate lay. A voice above Clint sighed, and a gloved hand reached out to help them up, but then pulled away, as if thinking better of it. “I thought they’d at least get started on the walls, but this definitely ain’t what I had in mind.”

“Man, could you bitches have made more of a mess?”

“Uh, probably,” Clint pointed out, making no move to get up as Kate got to her feet and awkwardly wiped her hands on her jeans. “Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Clint. You ain’t touchin’ me,” Bucky replied, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at him.

“You’re no fun.”

America took her sunglasses off and hooked them onto the neck of her shirt. She shot Kate an exasperated look, completely ignored Clint, and glanced around with a shake of her head. “We ain’t getting that deposit back, that’s for damn sure.”

Clint pushed himself upright. “Mostly everything’s covered and you’re painting the walls anyway,” he pointed out, pausing as a towel hit him square in the face. He grabbed it and wiped ineffectually at the paint covering his forearms. “Y’know, a wet towel would be more useful.”

“I think takin’ you outside and just blastin’ you with the hose would work best,” Bucky retorted, picking up the paint rollers and setting them in the trays. “Gonna need to do it for Lucky, so might as well get you two while we’re at it.”

“Not a bad idea,” America agreed, then yelped as Kate wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, that is _it_ , Princess; you’re on cleaning duty. Barnes and I are gonna eat this pizza and you and Barton can figure out dinner.”

“You just want to see me in a wet t-shirt,” Clint sighed theatrically.

“No one wants to see that,” Kate and America chorused and Bucky rolled his eyes with a laugh.

Catching Bucky’s eye, Clint winked and rolled the hem of his t-shirt up until America threatened to dump the entire bucket of paint on his head.

“Y’know though, I kind of like the ceiling like that,” Kate said, gesturing upward as she wiped at her face with a damp paper towel. “All speckled? It’s pretty neat.”

America looked up and studied it, her head tilting in thought. “I think it needs a bit of the blue. Not overdone, but it could look pretty badass.”

Bucky busied himself with pulling paper plates out of the bag and grabbing three slices of meat lovers’, putting two on a plate for Clint and thrusting it at him. “It’s definitely you two, that’s for sure,” he said, moving over to the sheet-covered couch and trying to find a spot free of paint splatter to sit down.

“We’ll stick to the arrow holes and that spot next to the fridge Buck accidentally punched through,” Clint laughed, stuffing a slice of pizza in his mouth and scooting over to lean against Bucky’s legs.

“The one you keep saying you’re gonna fix?” Bucky retorted, grimacing and holding up his plate as Clint tilted his head back and rubbed his painted hair over Bucky’s knees and lower thighs. “We live in a shithole, Clint.”

“Yeah, but it’s our shithole. Hell, the whole building’s _my_ shithole.”

Kate snorted and tossed the paper towels into the trash bin. “It has personality, I’ll give it that, and I’ll miss Bed-Stuy, and Brooklyn.” She settled onto the floor next to Clint and murmured her thanks when America handed her a plate with pizza. “But it’s kind of nice to have something that’s… mine, I guess. I’ve never really had that.”

Clint could certainly appreciate that. He let his head rest against Bucky’s legs, looping a purple streaked arm around his calf.

“I guess it’s different for me,” America said thoughtfully, leaning a hip against the table, still looking at the purple spattered like stars on the ceiling. “My home is my family, y’know? It’s you, Princess, our friends - I guess you two idiots too. Life in the multi-verse does that to you.”

“Well, now you’ve got a physical place too,” Kate said, trying and failing to hide her smile. “Get used to it, ‘cause it ain’t going anywhere unless some intergalactic threat trashes New York again.”

Clint chuckled. “At least you guys didn’t pick Manhattan. Queens has got a way better track record for destruction by aliens or evil masterminds.”

Bucky whapped Clint upside the head and America grinned, grabbing a beer from the six pack and popping the cap. “It’s definitely something I could get used to,” she admitted, a soft look flickering across her face as she looked at Kate. She raised her bottle and nodded to each of them. “To home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr!](http://feathers-and-cigarettes.tumblr.com)


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